In the last 24 hours, while you perused inflammatory Facebook posts, a child went to bed hungry. An elderly nursing home resident was mistreated. A woman was raped. A man assaulted his wife. Plenty of intoxicated people got behind the wheel of a car. Someone abused and tortured an animal for the sheer pleasure of it.
You get the picture.
Passions have certainly run high lately with the release of super-top-secret-shocking Planned Parenthood videos. Videos that (gasp) have outraged the populace into screeching their battle cry of "Save The Babies!".
I'm not even going to get into the obvious flaws in these videos, such as taking into consideration the source, editing, or the agenda behind them. It is fruitless when trying to rationalize with those whose convictions have no room for the grey areas of reality.
I used to be a black and white thinker. I stubbornly had no room for the grey. And then, through the debating groups that brought me my closest and dearest friends, I started to view and understand the world through other people's eyes. Vastly different viewpoints, some of which seemed to go against everything I believed, opened up the world for me. I was forced into fact checking, researching, and hearing first hand accounts of people who had experienced that which I had formed an opinion about. Suddenly, the world stopped being black and white.
Should we be shocked the Planned Parenthood videos have been released just as an election season cycle begins to warm up? Absolutely not. Because this is not actually video that is only about whether an organization has broken the laws regarding fetal tissue donation. It is much more than that, and every outcry and denunciation of Planned Parenthood proves that.
It is about abortion.
One of the greyest topics out there.
You would think labels of "pro-life" and "pro-choice" could actually be pretty black and white, but they are not. Not even close.
So, putting aside the laws clearly written in regards to fetal tissue donation, let's discuss what is really going on here. This isn't about whether someone has broken the law. This isn't about the choice of words by an employee in a large organization. This isn't about medical research that has benefited millions. This is about babies.
Save the babies. What is that, anyway? Is it really about the babies? Or is it about birth? Because I don't really see people giving much of a shit beyond the exit point.
But, I'm jumping ahead of myself. Let's start with pregnancy.
Our law of the land says I have the right to decide what to do with my pregnancy. Fantastic. I can pop out 19 kids and throw them on national television. I can undergo fertility treatments and end up with six of those suckers at once, or select to only have three, two, or one. I can choose any number of methods of preventing even one of those little boogers from popping out of me like an alien life form. I can choose to not prevent anything, leave it all in the hands of a deity, and have a 40 week surprise party thrown for me.
It's pretty fabulous knowing I have all these choices. These choices to have, or not have. The choices to limit, or not limit. I'm thankful the laws of our land can not tell me how, when, the number of times, or where I reproduce. And with those laws, brings another. The choice to terminate.
Yes, it would be a wonderful world indeed if the need to terminate a pregnancy did not exist. But, regardless of the laws of our great land, that situation will always arise. Whether it's through the horrors of abuse or rape, the heartbreak of medical issues, or something as simple as the wrong time, there will always be women facing the reality of not wanting to give birth to a child. We could try to regulate that with laws, but it would be to no avail. And enter, our right, guaranteed to each and every womb carrier, termination.
Forcing a woman to carry an unwanted pregnancy is not only a ludicrous statement, it's a dangerous one. First of all, it would promote women trying to self-abort, in unsafe, unsanitary conditions. The mental health ramifications are astronomical, in a country that is already horribly failing in their mental health services. How far would it be taken? Would women find all of their privacy and freedoms taken away just so the powers that be can rest assured that she is incubating as they see fit? Where does it stop? If we legislate pregnancy (and let's be honest, outlawing abortion is exactly that) where does the legislating stop? Will we allow our government to start choosing the types of birth control they deem appropriate? Will the choices of preventing a pregnancy be limited to less effective ways? Also, can ALL pregnancies be dictated and outlined then? Will we allow a government state that tells us how to treat each pregnancy, dictate nutritional guidelines, medical care, and exactly how to give birth? Is THAT the goal when saying we need to outlaw abortion? It's not a far reach. Once you allow our great nation to dictate one choice, others can (and do) easily follow.
The second grey area of abortion, the really BIG one, is what happens if we force women to give birth to unwanted children. Obviously, a woman who did not want the pregnancy in the first place is going to have very little chance of a change of heart. I know I certainly don't want that type of parent raising a child. We can cry out for all those desperate parents out there wanting a baby and looking to adopt. And don't get me wrong, adoption is a fantastic option for people unable to have children. An expensive and lengthy option. An option couples have to qualify for, not only financially, but emotionally, and proving they are deemed healthy enough to adopt and raise a child. And let's be honest about people's intentions here...will children born of a different race, or born with birth defects or health issues be adopted quite so easily, were all these restrictions to be taken away? Some yes. All? No.
That leaves the foster care system. An already overtaxed and failing system. Not exactly the life of prosperity I would hope for children to have. Not when it's already filled with children coming from neglectful or abusive homes. If the system is suddenly flooded with infants, in all reality, what hope is there for the older children, many with emotional and behavioral problems? It's a terrible analogy, but fitting, when I just point out exactly what happens at an animal shelter. Everyone oohs and aaahs over the babies...the kittens and puppies are adopted out first. Then, you see the designer doggies and purebreds finding homes. It can make you cringe to think of it that way, but it is a harsh reality of the world.
The third grey area of abortion is the almighty dollar. Putting aside the mental health services we would need to expand on, let's look at social services. Forcing children to be born into poverty is going to make each and every one of us need to open up our already stretched wallets even more. Instead of the battle cries to limit and reduce our welfare system, we will need to be prepared to expand it even more. Raising a child is not cheap, and if we are forcing every pregnant woman out there to carry her pregnancy to term, we have to be willing to financially support every single poverty level woman and child through pregnancy and the following 18 years. This not only includes food and shelter, but basic medical needs, education, and any services needed because of disability.
I have yet, in 43 years of living on this earth, heard any rational solution to these grey areas. Especially in today's political climate. Especially a solution that does not take away the control each and every one of us has over our own being.
And that's what it boils down to in the labels of "pro-life" and "pro-choice". Pro-life is really nothing more than pro-birth. We can ignore the ramifications of forced pregnancy and forced birth and not offer up any solutions in regards to the mental and financial problems it would create, but that's not really a concern for ALL life. Only the perceived life of one, and only for a short amount of time. The long term is not considered, nor does it appear to be a concern.
Quite frankly, I believe we are ALL pro-choice. Just as one woman wants the choices granted to her to NOT become pregnant, NOT carry a pregnancy, another woman wants to exercise her right to get pregnant. As many times as she would like. She would like to have the choices to carry her pregnancy on her own terms, under her own medical decisions, and birth in the way she is most comfortable choosing. She would also like to raise that child in the way she chooses. Health choices, educational choices, financial choices.
Choices are a grand thing. And in the meantime, as we rant and rave about these choices that all women have regarding their ability to reproduce, we can forget and ignore the atrocities faced by the millions of people already right here, right now. I choose not to.
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Friday, August 14, 2015
Faux Slacker
I went four months without blogging. Certainly not because random trains of thought stopped coming to me. Quite the opposite, in fact. But this little thing called real life just kept getting in the way.
You see, my husband and I decided it would be fun to destroy our house. Not a single year goes by without some kind of project being put on THE LIST, and this year, it was a whopper.
After a mild winter that still had us feeling the drafts, seeing the frost on the windows, and noticing the peeling away of the exterior, we knew we could no longer ignore the outside of the house. So, windows, doors, and an entire new facelift of new siding got put on the honey-do list.
We are avid DIY-ers, and this little chore is no different. I've made some foolish decisions, like keeping both my 110 year old cottage windows that are irreplaceable, and though I may occasionally shake my head at their draftiness, I will be glad I kept one small piece of original construction. I also HAD to have the antique door with the leaded glass that looks like a cobweb, which isn't really a security minded door, but I will smile every time I look at it.
I am a detail oriented brain, and a project this large makes me an indecisive twit. I can quickly decide that white siding is what I want, but ask me if I'd like shutters and I still, two months later, can't decide if I want to refinish the old shutters or go with all new. I know I want a front porch built, but the size of said porch has changed four times. Point out our front door is not quite centered on the house, and I'm now the proud owner of an unfinished sidelight. A sidelight I can not decide on a framing style for. A sidelight that will be installed with the door in the next couple of weeks, that I am still clueless on. I am reusing our house numbers, but can't decide how to refinish them, or if I want them framed in some way. I still have not decided on a new exterior light.
I keep telling myself I have time to make these decisions, because there's still SO much work to do. This weekend, we tear apart the bottom two feet of the siding to determine what kind of damage or repair work needs to be done to the foundation. I'm convincing myself that with penny pinching previous owners, there will be plenty for us to work on before these decisions have to be made. But as the sides of the house progress, and I leave for work each morning seeing the front, I am reminded that all these decisions relating to the front of the house will need to be made before we can even begin to prepare it for the new siding.
Is it terrible to consider that extensive foundation work could mean the budget runs tight, and then perhaps I can avoid making a decision on a front porch until next year?
And is it awful to avoid thinking about our DIY weekend warrior title also means we are only working on Saturdays? And refuse to look at a calendar to see how many Saturdays are left before weather prohibits us from doing any more work?
At what point is all this avoidance going to bite a big chunk out of my ass?
Amazingly enough, I am not drinking heavily through all of this. Probably because I've been working too hard to think about pouring a frosty cold one.
All I know, is I've got a great tan from constantly working outside. And I love my new windows that I can open and close with one hand. And I have calluses on my hands that I've never had before.
And in two days, another Saturday will have come and gone.
Nope. Not going to think about it.
You see, my husband and I decided it would be fun to destroy our house. Not a single year goes by without some kind of project being put on THE LIST, and this year, it was a whopper.
After a mild winter that still had us feeling the drafts, seeing the frost on the windows, and noticing the peeling away of the exterior, we knew we could no longer ignore the outside of the house. So, windows, doors, and an entire new facelift of new siding got put on the honey-do list.
We are avid DIY-ers, and this little chore is no different. I've made some foolish decisions, like keeping both my 110 year old cottage windows that are irreplaceable, and though I may occasionally shake my head at their draftiness, I will be glad I kept one small piece of original construction. I also HAD to have the antique door with the leaded glass that looks like a cobweb, which isn't really a security minded door, but I will smile every time I look at it.
I am a detail oriented brain, and a project this large makes me an indecisive twit. I can quickly decide that white siding is what I want, but ask me if I'd like shutters and I still, two months later, can't decide if I want to refinish the old shutters or go with all new. I know I want a front porch built, but the size of said porch has changed four times. Point out our front door is not quite centered on the house, and I'm now the proud owner of an unfinished sidelight. A sidelight I can not decide on a framing style for. A sidelight that will be installed with the door in the next couple of weeks, that I am still clueless on. I am reusing our house numbers, but can't decide how to refinish them, or if I want them framed in some way. I still have not decided on a new exterior light.
I keep telling myself I have time to make these decisions, because there's still SO much work to do. This weekend, we tear apart the bottom two feet of the siding to determine what kind of damage or repair work needs to be done to the foundation. I'm convincing myself that with penny pinching previous owners, there will be plenty for us to work on before these decisions have to be made. But as the sides of the house progress, and I leave for work each morning seeing the front, I am reminded that all these decisions relating to the front of the house will need to be made before we can even begin to prepare it for the new siding.
Is it terrible to consider that extensive foundation work could mean the budget runs tight, and then perhaps I can avoid making a decision on a front porch until next year?
And is it awful to avoid thinking about our DIY weekend warrior title also means we are only working on Saturdays? And refuse to look at a calendar to see how many Saturdays are left before weather prohibits us from doing any more work?
At what point is all this avoidance going to bite a big chunk out of my ass?
Amazingly enough, I am not drinking heavily through all of this. Probably because I've been working too hard to think about pouring a frosty cold one.
All I know, is I've got a great tan from constantly working outside. And I love my new windows that I can open and close with one hand. And I have calluses on my hands that I've never had before.
And in two days, another Saturday will have come and gone.
Nope. Not going to think about it.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
You're Doing It Wrong
August...ahhh, the dog days of summer. When it's finally blistering hot and you realize it's nearly time for those offspring to go back to school.
Just 10 days to go, and I will be sending one off to his final (half) year of high school, and one will begin her 3rd year of college.
And apparently, I'm doing it wrong.
I don't feel weepy. There is no heart tugs of nostalgia where I pull out those first day of school pictures with backpacks strapped on that look bigger than their tiny little bodies.
Nope, I'm celebrating.
I'm also procrastinating.
I could do that online registration for high school. But I'm also considering what a pain in the ass it is, considering nothing has changed for the last 13 years we've been living in this school district. I've considered not even bothering with the registration, and seeing if they even notice he's attending school. Or perhaps, as a final hurrah of it being the final registration, informing them he now speaks exclusively Vietnamese and will need a translator.
I could fill out the same child's early graduation request. I should be more than eager to complete that paperwork, but if he hasn't registered, does it even count? It also makes me cranky, because though he will have met his core curriculum requirements within the first nine weeks of school, he will be stuck filling his remaining time at this school with "fluff" classes, because he still won't quite have the credits he needs to graduate. Apparently, having double the credits needed in Math and Science doesn't mean squat if you haven't completed the proper amount of electives. I'm sure he'll enjoy picking between a ceramics class and automotives where he can be told what a gas cap looks like.
Deep down I know I will give in at some point and do as I'm told. I will dot all the I's and cross all the T's, because it will hopefully give a guarantee that he can finally be done with this hoorah by mid-January. Though I'm still stubbornly holding out on the mandatory laptops provided by the school. Quite frankly, I don't want to have to keep an additional laptop in this house, and I find the whole concept ridiculous when my son already owns a laptop.
I also have no college student to move back in a flurry of activity and overwhelming stress. She has already "officially" moved out of our home, after renting her own place this last spring. I no longer spend summers with random piles of girl crap, stray bobby pins, or the piles of shit that fit in a dorm room, but don't fit in our home.
Within a month of her move, I was painting her bedroom and transforming it into my own personal "zen den", which also meant not leaving any sleeping space. I did not weep, or feel sad. I enjoy that space quite often...it is my version of a "man cave" in which I shamelessly enjoy time all to myself doing whatever I wish, surrounded by random things that bring me peace and joy.
I do not dread the day we cart our son off to college. I revel in the idea of endless nights of freely choosing my activities, only being responsible for my own meals, all messes being solely my own.
I do not fear the quiet.
And it WILL be quiet. With a husband on the road all week, it will be just me and the cat. And I can look forward to a grocery bill that will be cut in half, slow internet that will not be shared with anyone else, expanding my social outings if I wish, and tackling projects instead of cooking dinner as soon as I get home from work.
I can do whatever the hell I want. And the thought of that is exciting...not depressing.
I am about to turn 44 years old. My oldest turns 21 this year. I have spent nearly half my life parenting, and I am ok with this stage of my life nearing an end. I am beyond thrilled to become an empty nester. Because there will be nothing "empty" about it. It will be filled with excitement, adventures, and a fulfilling new stage of life. I will enjoy seeing what the future holds for my children, but I will not be hanging on tight, bemoaning a quiet house.
I've said it before. Perhaps the mother gene skipped a generation. Because I see the posts, I hear the talk. The people shedding a tear for the years going by. Dreading when the house is empty. And just as they may not understand my excitement, I don't understand their sadness.
Am I doing it wrong?
My happiness with life says no.
Just 10 days to go, and I will be sending one off to his final (half) year of high school, and one will begin her 3rd year of college.
And apparently, I'm doing it wrong.
I don't feel weepy. There is no heart tugs of nostalgia where I pull out those first day of school pictures with backpacks strapped on that look bigger than their tiny little bodies.
Nope, I'm celebrating.
I'm also procrastinating.
I could do that online registration for high school. But I'm also considering what a pain in the ass it is, considering nothing has changed for the last 13 years we've been living in this school district. I've considered not even bothering with the registration, and seeing if they even notice he's attending school. Or perhaps, as a final hurrah of it being the final registration, informing them he now speaks exclusively Vietnamese and will need a translator.
I could fill out the same child's early graduation request. I should be more than eager to complete that paperwork, but if he hasn't registered, does it even count? It also makes me cranky, because though he will have met his core curriculum requirements within the first nine weeks of school, he will be stuck filling his remaining time at this school with "fluff" classes, because he still won't quite have the credits he needs to graduate. Apparently, having double the credits needed in Math and Science doesn't mean squat if you haven't completed the proper amount of electives. I'm sure he'll enjoy picking between a ceramics class and automotives where he can be told what a gas cap looks like.
Deep down I know I will give in at some point and do as I'm told. I will dot all the I's and cross all the T's, because it will hopefully give a guarantee that he can finally be done with this hoorah by mid-January. Though I'm still stubbornly holding out on the mandatory laptops provided by the school. Quite frankly, I don't want to have to keep an additional laptop in this house, and I find the whole concept ridiculous when my son already owns a laptop.
I also have no college student to move back in a flurry of activity and overwhelming stress. She has already "officially" moved out of our home, after renting her own place this last spring. I no longer spend summers with random piles of girl crap, stray bobby pins, or the piles of shit that fit in a dorm room, but don't fit in our home.
Within a month of her move, I was painting her bedroom and transforming it into my own personal "zen den", which also meant not leaving any sleeping space. I did not weep, or feel sad. I enjoy that space quite often...it is my version of a "man cave" in which I shamelessly enjoy time all to myself doing whatever I wish, surrounded by random things that bring me peace and joy.
 | |
| Pure Zen |
I do not dread the day we cart our son off to college. I revel in the idea of endless nights of freely choosing my activities, only being responsible for my own meals, all messes being solely my own.
I do not fear the quiet.
And it WILL be quiet. With a husband on the road all week, it will be just me and the cat. And I can look forward to a grocery bill that will be cut in half, slow internet that will not be shared with anyone else, expanding my social outings if I wish, and tackling projects instead of cooking dinner as soon as I get home from work.
I can do whatever the hell I want. And the thought of that is exciting...not depressing.
I am about to turn 44 years old. My oldest turns 21 this year. I have spent nearly half my life parenting, and I am ok with this stage of my life nearing an end. I am beyond thrilled to become an empty nester. Because there will be nothing "empty" about it. It will be filled with excitement, adventures, and a fulfilling new stage of life. I will enjoy seeing what the future holds for my children, but I will not be hanging on tight, bemoaning a quiet house.
I've said it before. Perhaps the mother gene skipped a generation. Because I see the posts, I hear the talk. The people shedding a tear for the years going by. Dreading when the house is empty. And just as they may not understand my excitement, I don't understand their sadness.
Am I doing it wrong?
My happiness with life says no.
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